Fracture (The Chronicles Of Discord, #1) Page 7

  Chapter Seven

  The Tula

  Ben stifled another yawn and tried to keep his eyes open. The day was not proceeding how he had imagined it would, although the fault for that probably lay at his door. He was beginning to think that Astra Uel Ne Toban was not as defenceless as she appeared.

  It had gone wrong almost from the first moment when Councillor Ladron had asked what they had planned for the day. Ben had flippantly responded that he had a great interest in peace and quiet with the best company.

  He had paid for the joke dearly.

  He’d spent the whole morning in a library.

  Which had effectively put paid to any conversation between him and the skeleton. He looked up from his viewer to find her apparently engrossed in whatever it was she was reading. He had thought perhaps time might not prove so much of a waste if he pulled up some newspaper articles to get a feel for the political climate.

  That was when he saw it.

  There was only one newspaper: ‘The Daily Times’.

  It was state run.

  After reading a few of the sickeningly propaganda filled issues he accepted defeat. It hadn’t been a total washout though; he had discovered some interesting facts.

  It seemed that the Tula Councillors were voted into office every four years by the Tula people. There was no limit to the number of terms any one person could serve. Councillor Zorrenson had served two, Councillor Sendel three, and Councillor Ladron five terms.

  It was Councillor Ladron who had amalgamated the police force and the army into one ‘security force’ during his first term. Before that they had been two separate foundations presided over by two different councillors. Now there was one security force and one councillor who presided over it: Councillor Ladron.

  Alarm bells had gone off so loudly in Ben’s head it was a wonder he wasn't deaf.

  Interestingly, Corbani Va Dic Ladron had been uncontested in the elections for the last three terms.

  Ben stirred restlessly, there was something deeply chilling about Corbani Va Dic Ladron’s way of doing things. Ben wanted to get out of the library and into the fresh air.

  “Astra?”

  She looked up immediately, leaving Ben to wonder if she had been quite as engrossed in her choice of reading matter as she had seemed.

  “I’m kinda hungry; do you think we could grab a bite?”

  Astra looked blank, but stood obediently and picked up her bag. They left the room quietly, and it wasn’t until they were walking down the front steps that Astra turned to him.

  “To ‘grab a bite’ is to eat, yes?”

  “Yep, I’m starving; aren’t you?”

  Astra nodded her agreement.

  “What would you like to eat?”

  Ben looked thoughtful before shrugging.

  “I don’t mind; suggest something.”

  He thrust both hands into his pockets, and smiled down at her. She didn’t seem to be impressed by his friendliness.

  “Very well, if you’ll follow me?”

  She set off across the courtyard towards the park. They walked through the leafy walkways in silence, and emerged out the other side where there was a row of restaurants. Astra led the way to one tucked into the corner as Ben studied the black stone and clear glass of the buildings they passed. Even the Tula structures had a uniform, he reflected.

  The owner of the little restaurant came out to greet them with a friendly smile. She was in her early forties with blunt cut shoulder length hair. Her smile faded as she saw that Astra wasn’t alone, and she turned to her almost as though seeking reassurance. Astra smiled slightly, and the woman asked if they would like a drink. Astra declined, but turned to Ben with the assurance that the best coffee in the whole of the Tula nation could be found within Jayn’s establishment. The woman laughed, and moved off to bring a pot.

  Ben’s eyes took in the empty restaurant.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “We are a little late; everyone has returned to work.” She looked away from him across over the park and heaved a sigh. “The timing is good.”

  Ben wondered at the heartfelt sincerity in her voice, maybe she was one of those people who hated crowds.

  The owner returned bearing a tray with the requested coffee pot, and set it down on the table before placing a glass of water before Astra. The water must have been chilled because the outside of the glass was frosted with condensation.

  Ben watched as Astra looked up surprised, but the woman only smiled and nudged the glass a little closer.

  “Go on, Astra. It’s a warm day; you must be thirsty.”

  Astra smiled gratefully, and Ben was shocked. For a moment she appeared much younger than he had taken her for, warmer too, and it pushed her over the indefinable line that separated pretty from beautiful.

  “What would you like to eat?” asked the woman, taking a small pane of glass from her pocket, and a long thin glass pencil.

  Ben shrugged.

  “Jayn is best known for her sandwich trays,” instructed Astra quietly as she poured his coffee for him.

  “Then we’ll have two,” smiled Ben.

  “They are rather large Mr. Burton; I do not think you would manage two.”

  Ben smiled and lounged back in his chair.

  “I meant one each.” He put his head to one side. “Unless you’d like to share?”

  “You assume too much, Mr. Burton,” returned Astra coldly, turning back to Jayn. “Just the one tray, Jayn. Could you make sure that there are no fillings containing nuts or shellfish; Mr. Burton is allergic.”

  Jayn nodded, but her eyes were fixed on Ben.

  “You’re that Senator's son from off the telly, aren’t you?”

  Ben smiled and admitted that he was.

  “And you’re here!” Jayn elbowed Astra. “I’ve a good mind to call Annis and tell her! But that piece of trouble would probably try to break out of school to come and see him for herself.” She turned back to Ben and chuckled causing Ben some concern for the already straining buttons on her jacket. “She thought you were rip!”

  Ben watched her leave them and disappear into the kitchens.

  “Rip?” he asked, turning to Astra.

  Astra placed a long fingernail in the ring of water around the bottom of her glass, and drew it into patterns on the table top.

  “It means a pleasing physical aspect.”

  Ben grinned.

  “Well it’s nice to know you think I have a pleasing physical aspect.”

  Astra took a sip of water. It occurred to Ben that it was the first time he’d seen her eat or drink anything, and it made her seem more human.

  “Not me, Mr. Burton; Jayn’s fourteen year old daughter.”

  “Ah yes, my mistake. I do, however, clearly recall you agreeing with me when I said I was hungry, yet now you won’t eat anything.”

  “I never agreed with you, Mr. Burton.”

  “You nodded,” corrected Ben. “What’s wrong? I'm not good enough for you to eat with?”

  It was a joke, but Ben noticed her stiffen just a little like he’d seen her do before when she was uncomfortable. He wondered what he’d said that had rattled her cage. It had something to do with her not eating. Now he thought of it, hadn’t this happened yesterday as well at the greeting meal? He opened his mouth to ask her what was going on, but she was staring straight past him with an expression that was probably the closest she would ever get to panic.

  He turned to see the object of her consternation. A young woman had emerged from the park, and paused smiling in their direction, her hand half lifted as though she was about to wave. Suddenly she seemed to change her mind. For a second longer she hesitated then with an angry shrug she turned on her heel, and walked away.

  Ben turned back just in time to see the stiffness ease from Astra’s frame to be replaced with an almost flaccid relaxation.

  She was relieved.

  “Someone you know?”

  “Yes.”

  “
I wouldn’t mind an introduction.”

  “That would be unwise,” responded Astra.

  “Shame, she had really nice stems.”

  “I bow to your no doubt superior knowledge of such things, Mr. Burton.”

  Ben looked surprised.

  “You understood what I said?”

  Astra’s eyes were concentrated on the patterns she was making on the table top.

  “Although the euphemism you used is unknown to me I would imagine that you are no different to any other man, and found Leda’s legs to be aesthetically pleasing.”

  “Aesthetically pleasing? Yes, very!” laughed Ben. “Almost as aesthetically pleasing as your...”

  “Your sandwich is here, Mr. Burton,” interrupted Astra coldly.

  Ben smiled and turned his attention to the tray before him. Every conceivable topping was lined up in individual bowls, along with several small buttered rolls.

  “Wow, I can see why these are so popular.”

  “Jayn, you remembered about the nuts and shellfish didn’t you?”

  Jayn nodded, and Ben turned to Astra a thoughtful look on his face.

  “What’s wrong, Mr. Burton?”

  “I’m surprised you remembered about my allergies.”

  “It’s my job to remember, Mr. Burton.”

  “Call me Ben.”

  Astra gave him a repressive look he could clearly remember his grandmother using.

  “That would not be appropriate, Mr. Burton.”

  “I thought it was customary in Tula culture?”

  “But not in yours, Mr. Burton.”

  Ben shrugged. While he found Astra’s disapproval amusing it wasn’t helping him squeeze information out of her. She was proving to be something of a tough nut, but even she had her lapses.

  Leda.

  He wondered who she was, and why Astra was so determined that he couldn’t meet her.

  “Are you enjoying your food, Mr. Burton?” asked Jayn appearing from nowhere, and replacing the cooling coffee pot with a fresh one.

  “Very tasty; what is the egg flavoured with?”

  Jayn looked surprised.

  “Nothing; it’s just egg.”

  Ben took another bite and chewed thoughtfully.

  “It definitely tastes different.”

  “That’s because it’s a hybrid,” responded Astra.

  “Hybrid?”

  “It comes from a chicken called the Calvin’s Wonder. Dr. Calvin was a geneticist who managed to combine the genetics of a chicken with the gene in a turtle that causes it to produce so many eggs. A Calvin’s Wonder produces between ten and fifteen eggs a day. The eggs have a subtly different flavour.”

  Ben found it very difficult to swallow suddenly. Maybe he was old fashioned, but he wasn’t sure he liked the idea that he was eating the eggs of a genetic freak.

  “They – ah – must look a bit… weird.”

  Astra thought about it for a moment.

  “I suppose it depends on what you’re used to. They look like a feather-covered turtle with flippers at the front, and chicken legs at the back.”

  Ben attempted to picture this description, and effectively put paid to any appetite he had left.

  “Like I said then: weird.”

  “Normal can only be determined in relation to what you’re used to, Mr. Burton. It is, therefore, an unpredictable measure.”

  Ben shrugged and pushed his tray away.

  “How long have you been Councillor Ladron’s subsidiary?”

  “I was eighteen when I first entered his service,” responded Astra.

  “That’s very young; you couldn't have been long out of school.”

  “Our general schooling lasts until we are sixteen, then we spend two years training for the positions that we will fill during our adult life.”

  “What happens if you can’t find a job?” asked Ben.

  Astra gazed at him blankly.

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  “What if, after all your training, there isn’t a job available?”

  “You don’t understand. We are trained for the jobs that are available. Our career is decided when we are ten years old after a series of placement tests.”

  Ben nodded but he was frowning.

  “That’s a pretty big decision for a kid of ten to make.”

  Astra looked surprised.

  “It isn’t our decision. The tests we undergo discover our aptitudes, and place us in the career that will suit us best.”

  “You must have been a top student then.”

  “Why would you say so?” asked Astra.

  Ben moved his coffee cup restlessly on the top of the table.

  “Well...” began Ben slowly, “of all the jobs for subsidiaries, surely the most prestigious is subsidiary to the Councillor for Security? Therefore only the best would be selected to serve in that position,” he reasoned.

  Astra looked vaguely uncomfortable.

  “The Councillors share the power that governs these lands Mr. Burton; to be selected to serve any of them is a great honour.”

  Ben had been looking for this answer from her, but the caution of her reply aroused his curiosity yet further.

  “But are they equal?” Ben continued to play with his coffee cup. “Why do you call Councillor Ladron ‘Reverend Councillor’? You don’t use the term for any of the other councillors.”

  Astra’s eyes had been fixed on the table throughout this exchange, but now the restless movement of her finger in the puddle of water around the bottom of her glass was suddenly arrested.

  “As my direct superior it is only natural that he receives my full submission.”

  “Submission?”

  Ben almost choked on the word. He had a clear memory of the greeting meal the day before. How Astra had sat to one side of Councillor Ladron, and seen to his every need. None of the other councillors had their subsidiaries present to do the same.

  Submission was the word.

  Servitude was another.

  “It wasn’t your choice to work as Councillor Ladron’s subsidiary was it, Astra?” he asked finally.

  “No, I was selected for the honour,” she replied promptly.

  Ben nodded. He felt pity for her, but she didn’t seem to have any remorse. Not that she showed anyway.

  “Who is she, Astra?”

  The quietness of his voice along with the change of topic caused her to look up meeting his eyes.

  “Who is who?”

  “Leda.”

  Astra continued to stare at him for a few moments before she spoke.

  “Someone that I know.”

  Ben chuckled.

  “We’ve already ascertained that.”

  Astra continued to stare at him, but her gaze gave nothing away.

  “Have you finished, Mr. Burton?” she asked eventually.

  “With the food, yes.” Ben caught her eye. “With you, no.”

  The words were not flirtatious, but held a mild threat. It had no discernible effect on Astra, but Ben hadn't really expected it to. She had just confirmed another of his suspicions: Astra Uel Ne Toban was used to being threatened.

  “Then shall we continue with our tour?”

  She stood waiting for him to follow suit, and after a moment he did.

  “I think I've seen enough of your library.”

  He saw Astra suppress what might have been a smile.

  “I see. Perhaps a museum then?”

  Ben rather thought that Astra was trying to punish him, but if she was she had chosen the wrong weapon.

  Ben wandered through the museum in a state of wonder drinking in the information that Astra fluently explained. Her knowledge of the subject matter was truly incredible. It was about an hour after their arrival she asked the question that Ben suspected had perplexed her from the start.

  “I had thought that you would have found this familiar; is our history so very different to yours?”

  Ben shook his head.

&
nbsp; “I don’t know, but probably not.”

  “Then have you not visited your own museums?” asked Astra.

  “We don’t have any, at least not yet,” returned Ben.

  Astra looked shocked, and Ben suddenly found himself defending his own people.

  “Look, it was different for us. The split between the Tula and the Una was achieved with relative peace. Even now, as I understand it, there is only fighting on the borderlands.”

  Astra nodded, verifying the truth of this statement.

  “When war broke out in our land everywhere was a battlefield, nowhere was safe.”

  Ben sat down on one of the benches, and locked his hands together between his knees.

  “I’ve often thought your people were very fortunate. Your war left the past, your heritage, intact.” Ben looked at the artefacts across from him. “We lost everything.”

  Astra sat beside him.

  “Everything?”

  “Everything,” nodded Ben. “Buildings, artefacts, museums... everything.”

  They sat in silence for some time following this interchange before Ben began to feel awkward over his outburst, and the pain it had openly displayed to Astra. He shifted on the seat, rubbing his open palms down his trouser legs.

  “How come you know so much about this stuff anyway?”

  Astra’s eyes were focused on the highly polished granite floor.

  “My people believe that much can be learnt from the past. King Solomon once wrote ‘there is nothing new under the sun’.”

  Ben waited for her to elaborate, but she remained silent.

  “What does that mean?”

  Astra tilted her head to one side gazing out into the room with unfocused eyes.

  “It means that all mistakes, every scheme and idea, have been made many times over in the past. Therefore there is nothing new because, when you get to the root of it, every impulse of man is as old as time itself.”

  Astra paused momentarily, and then continued in a soft voice.

  “That is why my people believe there is much to learn from the past.”

  Ben nodded and then frowned.

  “That doesn’t strike me as very Tula,” he observed before grinning. “I suppose you guys must have hidden depths.”

  Astra flinched, and became very still. Ben was surprised by the tension that filled the air about them.

  Finally she stood.

  “Perhaps you would like to continue with the tour now?”

  Her voice was toneless and heavy. Ben agreed, and got to his feet wondering what he’d said to put up her guard again. He seemed to find some new secret every place he turned, yet no explanations.

  Perhaps it was time to use a less subtle approach.